Knowers guilt
by ivy-damaris
Summary: Nell Jones was angry. Noticing the expression currently on her face, even the ever brave Agent G. Callen avoided facing her head-on, thus risking infuriating her further with his mere existence and chose the safer option of getting out of her way... undertones of NALLEN...
1. Nell's guilt

Some quotes are from episode 3x02.

**Nell's guilt**

Nell Jones arrived at the Mission when it was still dark outside wondering why she bothered going home at all since she didn't leave well after midnight the previous day. She was rather irritated with Hetty at the moment as it was her fault she was at work so early (if she were honest with herself she'd had admitted she would had arrived around that time regardless). When she had arrived home the previous day, a message in a black envelope was ominously waiting at her kitchen table. She didn't dare to wonder how it got there.

_Miss Jones,_

_I need the sealed package that is to be opened in case of my death from the drawer. You know which one._

_Hetty_

With the note came the code (that Nell didn't really need) and the key for the drawer. Nell knew _exactly_ which one. And it couldn't be open in the presence of the others. Or even when they were in the building.

Nell resented being summoned like this. Because it was not a request. Not really. Hetty was her boss in she didn't mind taking orders pertaining to her job. Or even her second temporary job. Although she also wouldn't mind easing up a bit on that. She was suddenly acting as technical analyst _and_ operations manager. Well, the way she sees it, she's only doing things that Hunter, who is the official temporary operations manager, can't be bothered with.

However she knew anything in that drawer had nothing to do with work but everything to do with that debacle in Romania and everything to do with Callen. Seeing _G. Callen_ written on that package confirmed her guilty fears and made her resentment for Hetty grow. She had been sending Nell on all kinds of Callen related errands. As if he felt this, he has taken to badgering Nell about things and she in turn did her best to avoid him. His pleading eyes tugged at her heart strings and she was always in danger of blabbing everything she knew (which wasn't much) to him.

She delivered the briefcase to Hetty and asked questions about when she's coming back to work. Her boss waved them off and either didn't notice Nell's increasing annoyance or simply refused to acknowledge it. It did nothing to placate her, when Hetty asked her to check on the Jaguar repairs. She wondered when she became a personal assistant on top of everything.

She's not easy to upset and she usually doesn't let things get to her but she was overworked and tired to the bone even _before_ the start of her official work hours. She discovered early into the first week of Hetty's absence that 24 hours a day is not nearly enough time to do both of the jobs _if_ she wants to cram in a few hours of sleep and a quick meal here and there.

By 9 A.M. when the rest of the team, except for Eric who has been at work for a couple of hours, finally arrived, she was operating on three cups of coffee (and she's a tea person!) having already analysed the data for their current case, reviewed a third of all personnel status records and to her immense annoyance discovered three out of four DTS's from their recently closed case were still missing from her desk.

Taking a deep breath she decided a little break is in order before remembering she was supposed to check on those Jaguar repairs. Deciding she might as well multitask, she put the headset on dialling the mechanic's number, grabbed some files that needed to be destroyed days ago and flew down the stairs. Seeing Callen and Sam heading towards her she almost changed direction but there was nowhere to go. She changed tactics instead, trying to appear busy which she actually was but they were relentless. She ended the conversation with the mechanic and turned to them, wearing a totally fake smile on her lips.

"_Hi. You both owe me a DTS on your last trip."_

For a moment they both looked like they are ready to start sprouting excuses and Nell celebrated a small victory. Her joy was short lived as they ignored her polite hint.

"_What's the word on Hetty, Nell?"_ Now seriously frustrated with them, she recited what she had told them a thousand times before.

"_Hetty is at home recuperating and expecting to return shortly_." Her voice was as fake as her smile. She tried to flee them before her frustration with them became evident.

"_You said the same thing last week."_

"_And the week before that."_ At that point she really just wanted to yell _Go fuck yourselves! I don't know anything! _But that is simply not Nell Jones. Besides she knew they're not the ones she's really angry with. And she felt guilty about Callen enough as it was without telling him to go straight to hell.

"_Look, I can only tell you what I've been told! Trust me, no one wants her back here more than me. I've got three months of personnel status records to release, a room full of PII's that need to be declassified and destroyed, not to mention the quarterly training reviews that are about to become semi-annual if I don't finish them."_ Wow, when she said it out laud, it sounded even worse. _"And just because you don't see her, it doesn't mean she is not here."_

That ought to at least make them feel a bit sorry for her if nothing else.

All the good mood she may or may not have left vanished at the sight of Deeks' overflowing inbox.

"_Well, looks like your inbox is about to reach critical mass, detective."_

"_I'm on top of it."_

"_Really? Because somewhere in this compost pile are several unfiled NAVCOM 2282 forms, along with your last two time cards. So, if you'd like to get paid somewhere in the near future, I suggest you start digging."_

She wasn't planning on rounding on Deeks like that but his claims of _being on top of it_ only darkened her already sinister disposition. She noticed Callen subtly glancing at his almost as full as Deeks' inbox but only spared him a meaningful look. She stopped herself from lecturing him too, when she remembered that package she left with Hetty only a few hours ago.

She returned then to her menial task of declassifying the PII's since she apparently was no longer needed at briefings. Of course, Hunter who was briefed by Nell herself would do a more accomplished job of briefing the others. Nell scoffed at never-ending pile of files that were officially Hunter's responsibility. She disliked the acting operations manager more and more. Not to mention she forbade Eric from whistling. And his whistling always, _always_ made her smile. She kind of hated her at the moment. She then resisted the urge to pout but gave in figuring no one was there to see her anyway.

While pouring another cup of coffee that did nothing to wake her, only making her jittery, was when she accidently overheard Callen asking Eric about the laptop they found at Comescus. She stopped in her tracks knowing, and wishing she didn't, that he's never going to see that laptop he's been waiting for, for three months. She could see understanding dawn on him at Eric's confused _What?_ and could practically feel his remaining trust in fairness of the world and goodness of people and faithfulness of Hetty dissipate in front of her very eyes.

In that moment Nell felt so, _so_ tired. And so old. His blue, blue, _blue_ eyes pierced her soul, making her short of breath. The expanding guilt spread through her chest like cold fire, squeezing her stomach, her throat, her heart. She felt hurt. She felt betrayed. She felt sad. And in that moment she kind of hated Hetty too.

She might have dissolved in helpless tears (but probably not) if not for the arrival of one Patricia Michaels from NSA. _Cyber defence specialist? Really? _Nell could do, what this _Cyber defence specialist _came to do, in her sleep. She was a multitasker like that. And since when it was okay to bring just anyone to the Mission?

Still fuming at the unfairness of doing a string of totally boring tasks, while her real work is in the incompetent hands of some dumb cow, she pointedly put the ballistics report in Callen's hands right in front of Hunter although she was specifically instructed to first report to her current boss.

Her satisfaction was short-term though as she was still far removed from the case, buried under the meaningless bureaucracy, while the team was out on the field, relying on a perfect stranger to lead them. Nell was used to being their eyes and ears. She trusted with this task no one save for herself and Eric. The current situation made her nervous.

She was so distracted watching Eric and that woman typing on the keyboards and watching the screens, she crashed directly into some people who had the time to stand around without hurry to get anywhere. She glared and picked up the files crankily without anyone offering a hand.

"Doesn't anyone here have any work to do?" She was muttering under her breath more to herself than with the intention of anyone hearing her but people were getting out of her way anyway.

When every computer in the house started beeping, announcing a cyber attack on DoD, Nell was on her sixth cup of coffee and it didn't look as if it was going to be her last either. She just about had enough of that day. The only thing keeping her from just going home and to hell with everybody and everything is the fact that she got a break in the case after deciding this case needs her expertise like it or not.

"_You need to take a look at the accident footage."_

"_I'm sorry. We're a little busy here. We do not allow mailroom employees in our OPS centre."_

The incredulous look on Nell's face masked the cold fury that consumed her. Had Hunter not stepped in at that exact moment, recognizing Nell's importance and her words value, Nell would have wringed Patricia Michaels' pretty little neck. For the time being, so she could explain what she discovered, she suppressed her murderous rage but she was by no means calm.

Nell Jones was angry. She was frustrated. She was pissed off beyond belief and she was making it known to the next person that breathed funny. Noticing the expression currently on her face, even the ever brave Agent G. Callen avoided facing her head-on, thus risking infuriating her further with his mere existence and chose the safer option of getting out of her way.

The first briefing of the team she gave that day and the field assignment managed to spin her focus on the task at hand, so she could control her varying emotions and gave her a feeling of accomplishment she had been craving since she got out of the bed at the break of the dawn. Still, she was in no way at ease, which may also have been the result of the ridiculous amount of coffee she consumed.

When Kensi invited them to a few beers, she seriously considered accepting an invitation and making good use of it. She deserved it after all. But then with Hunter's visit to the weapon's room, Callen's mood dropped. He stared after her longingly as if she's the answer to everything he wants and needs to know. Nell's heart broke a little as she watched him.

No, Hunter was not the one with the answers. But Nell knew who it was.

Her relative calm now all but ancient history, the anger, which was slowly growing through the day, expanded tenfold, exploding in her chest, burning every rational thought she had left. She was seeing red.

Callen left them, trying hard to appear as if everything was fine even as it was painstakingly clear to all that nothing was _fine_. She forgot all about that beer as she stormed off like a girl on a mission, snarling, _actually snarling_ at anyone that got in her way. Passing a stunned Eric, who was as usually gazing at her adoringly, she did not even bother to offer a tight lipped pitying smile as was her accustomed response. She grabbed her things from the locker room and with perverse satisfaction slammed the front door behind her.

Only when she struggled to put her car key into the ignition she noticed her hands are shaking uncontrollably as a combined result of little to no sleep, lack of any real food, caffeine overload and her haywire emotions. Suddenly feeling lightheaded and sick to her stomach she rested her forehead on the stirring wheel. Her energy drained she wanted nothing but rest and maybe a glass of wine to render her unconscious.

But then as a sign from the universe she noticed the key of that blasted drawer still hanging around her neck. If it was possible the sight of it merely succeeded in making her madder than before. Gritting her teeth she ripped it off as if it all of a sudden burned her skin, and threw it on the passenger seat.

With renewed vigour she slammed the foot down on the gas pedal.

Things needed to be said and Nell Jones was going to say them.


	2. Protecting him

Some quotes from episode 3x02.

**Protecting him**

Arriving at Hetty's house Nell was still trembling with suppressed emotions. Seeing Callen's car parked down the street didn't really surprise her. Actually, she kind of expected it. She knew she should just spare herself further heartbreak and stay in the car until he left but out of some perverse motive she got out of her car. She let herself into the house the way she had many times before and snuck quietly through the house towards the swimming pool where she knew she will find Hetty and Callen. Her training seemed to have finally come to some use since neither Callen nor Hetty noticed her.

She heard Callen demanding answers about his past from Hetty and she had to wonder why, _why _didn't she just tell him. She wished with all her heart Hetty would tell him because then her interference would be completely unnecessary and she could go on with her life knowing she herself was not causing him any harm by concealing things from him.

But no, Hetty was playing dumb and Nell wanted to rip her hair out in frustration.

"_You knew things you never told me. Why?"_

G. Callen has the best poker face Nell ever saw. He was the best undercover agent this country had after all. He was a legend. He could _become_ whoever he wanted to. So no, Nell couldn't read his face. And she didn't need to. His voice told her everything she didn't want to know. It was the voice of a vulnerable little boy who has just been hurt and betrayed. Nevertheless he still wants to childishly believe everything his mother tells him is a sacred truth.

Still, he was giving her the benefit of the doubt. Because she is just... Hetty. She is the only person that comes even close to being his mother. The only mother he ever knew.

"_If I didn't tell you something it was for your own good. To protect you."_

Nell believed her wholeheartedly. She was certain all Hetty ever wanted was to protect Callen. But it was the absolute wrong thing to say at the moment. Callen didn't want to be protected. He didn't give a damn about his safety or even about being alive in the light of knowing Hetty has information about him and had it before. He wanted to know the truth she was hiding from him.

Nell is a person who detests being kept in the dark. She wants to know things. All things all the time. And to think someone would intentionally not tell her something she has every right to know as it pertains to her life while she desperately searches for answers makes her blood boil. At mere thought she imagined literally shaking the answers out of Hetty.

"_I deserve the truth."_

"_The truth it's not always so simple. I don't have all the answers you think I do. The last thing I ever wanted to give you was false hope." _

Nell had to wonder if Hetty really was so ignorant as to not be aware of the real issue. The sole fact that within her existed the knowledge with potential of giving hope was the root of his hurt.

"_I know how much it all means to you."_

But Nell wondered if she truly does know how much it means to him hearing something, even a tiny little thing about his family. Callen echoed her exact thoughts.

"_Do you?" _

He then pulled that, to Nell very familiar, stupid package out of the briefcase on the table.

"_Something tells me, everything I want to know, everything I deserve to know is right here. Am I right?"_

She held her breath hoping, hoping against all hope that pushed into the corner she will give into his pleading desperate eyes.

"_No."_ That one word froze Nell's insides. Hetty was a master of manipulation and craftiness however to outright lie to his face, to _Callen's _face, Nell didn't think her capable. _"But go ahead and open it if you don't trust me."_

Nell had never in her life felt such brutal violence consume her body. The need to stomp over to her boss and smack her around the face until she could no longer open her deceitful mouth was overwhelming. She could hardly believe this form of emotional blackmail was coming out of her mentor's, her boss, her _role model's_ mouth. This was the woman who took her under her wing, who gave her a job, who gave her the opportunity to prove herself, to make a career at NCIS, a woman to whom she had felt nothing but respect.

She felt dirty. Dirty for ever being an accomplice in this scheme of hers. She watched Callen's internal battle, his need to know enormous. However, she could tell even before he did, that he isn't going to open that package. His need to know surpassed only by his respect and love for Hetty. The irony of it was not lost on Nell.

"_I will find out who I am and who my family was with or without anyone's help."_ He threw the package back into the briefcase and slammed it shut before leaving, too proud to show more emotions in front of Hetty.

Hetty was one of the two people in the entire world he completely trusted. But watching him leave, Nell was dismayed to discover his eyes were dull and lifeless, the usual sparkle in them completely absent. His entire foundation had been shaken and nothing was ever going to be the same again.

She forced her feet to stiffly move towards where Hetty sat gazing in the distance and put the not so secret drawer's key on the table in front of her.

All rational thought has left her sometime during the day, her head throbbed from stress and improper nutrition and her feet ached from exhaustion. She didn't see a reason to hassle herself with polite or even impolite greetings. All forms of social etiquette were lost on her. After all if _some people_ couldn't be troubled with common decency why should she concern herself with such trivialities as social etiquette?

"Miss Jones." Hetty seemed genuinely surprised to see her there but Nell was past taking anything regarding her at face value. "I did not expect to see you again today." She glanced down at the key on the table. "And I thought I told you to keep that until further notice."

"I don't want it anymore." Hetty raised her eyebrows at her.

"Is that so?" Nell's fingers gently scraped over the package and stopped to trace the letter G written on the rough paper. She forced herself to meet Hetty's steel eyes. "This is the last thing I brought you from that drawer. I can't do you any more of this kind of favours. I won't."

"Miss Jones-"

"You're hurting him. I can't force you to tell him things but I don't want to be a part of it either. If that is something you can't except I can no longer work for you."

She herself didn't even realize what was going to come out of her mouth until she actually said it. Didn't realize she is willing to risk losing her job, her entire bright future and to all intents and purposes everything good in her life, everything she worked all her life to achieve for this. _For him_. She waited for the regret to appear but it never came.

It was a strange sight to see Hetty stunned into silence. It seemed she had at last managed to one-up her boss. And the true tragedy of it; she didn't find any real pleasure in it.

"Are you threatening me, Miss Jones?" she asked sharply. Nell sighed sadly, her shoulders dropping in palpable disappointment.

"No, Hetty, I'm not threatening you. I'm telling you." It stung that Hetty would ask this.

"I only want-"

"To protect him. I know. But he's not a little boy anymore. You can't just decide you know what's best for him!" Nell couldn't help but raise her voice at Hetty the way she had never dared or felt the need to before. "He deserves to know the answers! He's already broken inside; you know this better than anyone. And while knowing the truth he so desperately seeks wouldn't fix him, it would at least give him some peace of mind. You think he might be in danger if he finds out the truth? You should see that he doesn't die trying to uncover it."

"It would be far more dangerous-"

"Would it really? Are you doing this for him? Or for yourself?"

Once again Hetty seemed taken aback, either at her words or at her the sheer audacity, Nell was not sure. Nell herself was bewildered at the boldness of her words. _Where had her usual way of conveying annoyance gone to? Where are her sarcasm and her wit? _She was still not done with her lecture because that is what it turned out to be.

"He's a Special Agent, the best this government has, not lacking highly dangerous enemies he managed to collect in twenty years on the job. It is not luck he survived this long. He can protect himself. And we're here for him to help him if he wants it or not!"

"It's not just-"

Once again Hetty found herself interrupted by the irate technical analyst.

"He trusts you. Do you realize how lucky you are? There are not many alive that he does. And in his mind you are committing the worst possible betrayal. You're keeping him from things he longed for all his life. And you're making _me_ betray him!"

Oh, it's guilt that makes Nell Jones act irrationally and completely out of her character. That overwhelming guilt. And possibly her undefined feelings and admiration for the Special Agent Callen. She has suspicions she might had fallen under that centuries old spell of wanting to safe the emotionally damaged bad boy. She tries to suppress those urges but in it's not easy and it's even harder whenever she catches a glimpse of his vulnerability through his stone cold facade.

"You... I can't bear it..." Her voice broke as her vision blurred and her shoulders sagged. She should have known nothing will change Hetty's mind. Once again, now that the fight has left her body, she felt sick to her stomach. "Don't ask me for more favours regarding this," she repeated. This was after all her initial mission. To tell Hetty she should do her dirty work herself.

She didn't wait for Hetty to answer.

Driving down the street the conversation with Hetty kept rewinding again and again interrupted by flashes of searching blue eyes. She struggled against letting her tears fall but her exhausted body was betraying her. She thought talking to Hetty, letting her frustrations out in the open, will relieve her, lift a burden of her shoulders but she was wrong. The emotions of the day, of the week, hell, of the last three months (since the day she was left blind and deaf not knowing what was happening with anyone, if anyone was still alive even) at last caught up with her.

She had to stop her car at some point to empty the rather poor contents of her stomach on the side curb. Arriving at her apartment complex she knew she looked a fright when even the nice old lady from 3B avoided her in a circle. Not that she cared for any of that.

After everything, discovering only a single remaining spoon of her favourite ice-cream and a nearly full bottle of cheep white wine in her fridge, didn't even faze her. Feeling particularly self-destructive she stuffed the ice-cream into her mouth and taking a swing straight out of the bottle, she collapsed face first onto her couch, one hand hanging off, loosely grasping the neck of the bottle.

She had a plan which consisted of getting slightly buzzed to take the edge off and being dead to the world until about noon at which point she will proceed not to go to work. She deserved a day off, Hunter be damned.

Ultimately, after finishing the bottle, she ended up being more on the _blind drunk_ side of things as opposed to _slightly buzzed. _Her stomach didn't agree with the abuse but really, what was she expecting. Not even the fitful unconscious sleep was on agenda that night. She woke up abruptly every few hours from not really nightmares but nevertheless disturbing dreams of Romanian beaches she never actually saw only heard about, and a pair of blue eyes in the midst of endless sea coloured in blood red.

Therefore, despite nursing a killer hangover, at 7 AM, exactly an hour before the official start of her workday, Nell Jones was dutifully chucking the declassified files into the incinerator to be destroyed. Someone had to keep an eye on Agent Callen after all.


	3. In tune with his feelings

Some quotes are from episode 3x03. Might not follow the episode to the point.

**In tune with his feelings**

The whole office was bustling with morning activity as Nell finally emerged from under a tone of personnel status records that were at last ready to be released. It almost felt normal. _Almost._

Confirming that Callen was chatting and actively joking with the rest of the team and not off somewhere brooding as he was prone to do when something was bothering him, brought a gentle smile on her lips as she poured a cup of coffee. Despite vowing up and down to take better care of herself (i.e. remember to eat and cut down on caffeine) after the previous day's fiasco, coffee was a necessity, especially in the light of a persisting hangover.

The briefing (at which, Hunter decided, Nell is once again needed after that awkward situation with NSA Cyber defence specialist) turned out to be an interesting affair what with Callen blatantly rebuffing Hunter's authority. Nell might have felt sorry for her if not for that stunt she pulled at the end of the briefing.

Separating the partners was a bad idea and Callen resented her even further for it. It was not that he didn't trust Kensi to have his back but he felt comfortable with Sam; they knew each other, sometimes better then themselves and they could talk without saying a word. Nell knew it will put a terrible damper on Callen's previously quite content mood. She did not even _attempt_ to hold back a burning glare towards Hunter.

She saw Callen marching after Hunter out of ops and she couldn't help (and didn't want to) but casually inch closer to the exit, a pile of files in her hands, in the hearing distance of the arguing duo.

"_Why are you doing this?"_ He sounded pissed and Nell couldn't blame him.

"_Your hostility towards me is affecting the team's work." _Nell scoffed at the utter bullshit that was coming out of her mouth. The team was doing better than ever after that little bonding experience in Romania. Callen called her out on it.

"_No, it's not. The team is doing just fine. Whatever hostility I have is not about them, it's about you. _

"_I can't trust anybody that withholds information about my past, my life."_

Oh, the irony...

The guilt she thought to have shifted onto Hetty's shoulders returned full force.

"_And yet, you trust Hetty."_ The deliberate jab made Callen narrow his eyes at her but most of all Nell noticed he did not jump to confirm Hunter's words, merely letting the statement hang between them. _"If I told you what was on Alexa Comescu's laptop in Romania, would that gain your trust?"_

"_It'd be a good place to start."_ He tried to play it off casually but Nell could see right through his nonchalance. He was beyond eager to hear any crumb she was willing to share. However, the only person alive capable of giving him what he wanted was Hetty.

"What are you doing?" Eric's voice behind her back startled her into letting the files fly and scatter all around ops.

"Are you trying to drive me to my early death?!" She snapped at her partner, mostly annoyed she was missing out on the conversation. Paying no heed to her obvious irritation, he smirked at her.

"You wouldn't be eavesdropping now, would you?" Nell only rolled her eyes at her partner's teasing and shushed him to hear the end of the conversation, now not even making an effort to be inconspicuous.

"Information is power," she told him mock haughty before turning back to continue listening, Eric joining her.

"_There's nothing about you on the laptop, Agent Callen. The answers that you're looking for, they... They died with Alexa Comescu in Romania."_

He left then, the pain evident in his eyes and Nell almost wished Eric would have distracted her a little longer so she wouldn't have to see the despaired expression fleetingly pass his face before he got his emotions under control.

Eric was talking to her but Nell didn't hear him. She was officially having a second consecutive really, _really_ bad day.

She was almost proven wrong, when she approached her work space and noticed three thick DTS reports resting on her desk. She almost cried from joy before picking them up and hugging them to her chest. Only then did she notice she is holding only _two_ DTS reports and a really old copy of an auto magazine. Now more on the verge of tears of frustration she tossed the magazine _and_ the reports back down on the desk in disgust. How did anyone around here expect her to do her job?

Detective Marty Deeks has obviously been successfully terrorized into writing the report. And agent Sam Hanna probably took pity on her, witnessing her harassed state. But what will it take to get Agent G. Callen to tackle his mounting paperwork?

With a resigned sigh Nell focused on their current case but a couple of hours later as soon as she heard them come in from the boatshed, she practically flew down the stairs to the bullpen.

"Callen-" she started before noticing he's missing from his desk. "Where's he?"

The tone of her voice must have given up her bad temper with Special Agent in charge as they all glanced at each other carefully as if afraid pointing out his location will not bode well for their colleague's well being.

"He's in the weapon's room." Kensi was the one to answer her ,rather hesitantly and she could hear her defending herself after Nell's departure. "What are you looking at me like that for? He's a big boy."

Entering the room, she found him standing at the table, leaning on his hands, palms on the table.

"Callen-" she began once again forcefully but stopped as soon as she noticed his sickly pale complexion. The tone of her voice changed immediately to a more gentle quantity. "What's the matter?"

"Nothing," he mumbled, shaking his head but stopped at once as it did him no good. He took a deep breath and steeled himself. "I'm fine. You need something, Nell?"

Nell ignored his claims of being _fine_ entirely.

"Come on, Callen. You're of a particularly unattractive shade of green. This is not _fine_. What's wrong?"

"Really, Nell-"

"Callen," she warned. "I'm not leaving until you tell me."

He glared at her but seeing her unrelenting gaze he figured he's not going to win this one.

"Motion sickness," he sighed, looking anywhere but at her. Nell smiled slightly at his obvious discomfort of anyone seeing his weakness. She would have left him alone had she known but as she was already there...

"Kensi driving?" she asked, fully familiar with the female Agent's abrupt direction changes. He nodded kind of pitifully and grumbled moodily, still not looking at her. "Come on, cranky," she beckoned, grasping his very firm bicep and pulling him towards the bench.

"Nell," he almost whined, trusting her enough to let his guard down in her presence.

"Sit, head down, deep breaths; you know the drill." He sullenly obeyed her instructions like a little boy with too much energy who is required to sit still and quiet at Sunday's mass. She sat down beside him on the bench.

"Didn't you say you'll leave when I tell you?"

"Stop sulking," she scolded good-naturedly, not even addressing his complaint.

"I don't sulk," he protested, might she add, rather sulkily.

"Of course not." She patted his shoulder reassuringly. "Big, brave, alpha male, macho men do not sulk. They ponder intensely."

He turned his head to the side to glare at her but seeing a teasing grin on her lips he felt a corner of his lips lift involuntarily. Nell Jones knew just how to make him smile. Hi felt instantly better, his sickness slowly dissipating.

"Big, brave, alpha male, macho man? And yet, you come here and order me around. You're braver than I am."

"How do you figure?" she asked in confusion, tilting her head to the side.

"Yesterday you looked ready to strangle someone and burn the entire place to the ground and I did my best to avoid stepping on your path at all costs," he admitted. Nell felt a little embarrassed by her temper and just a little bit more proud to invoke such a response. She had kind of felt the way he described. She just had no idea anybody paid attention to her mood.

"Well, self-preservation is important in this kind of work," she told him mock gravely, not wanting the mood to turn serious. He laughed a little.

"You know, one day that tongue of yours will bring you trouble." She smirked at him.

"Like you wouldn't believe," she told him, thinking of many implications the statement invoked. She thought she saw his eyes darken a few shades before he looked away from her. "You look better."

"I thought you said I'm unattractive."

"I believe I said you're of unattractive shade of green. And you were. Feeling better?"

"Yeah, thanks."

"Anytime." She stood up looking down at him and he titled his head to focus his eyes at her. "Now please, turn in your DTS report ASAP."

He grimaced at her as if she was causing him unimaginable pain.

"Now that I think about it, I do still feel a little sick." She laughed while leaving the weapons room.

"You seem to be doing just fine, Agent Callen," she remarked over her shoulder. "Don't forget the report."

"I'll get right on it," he called after her.

Yeah, where did she hear that one before?

Suddenly in high spirits, that she had been lacking for the past three months (she only then noticed this) she nearly skipped past the amazed agents in the bullpen and threw herself into work.

Later on, watching Sam in Winslow's club on the big screen Nell had a bad feeling about this and Callen's arrival to ops only troubled her further.

"_I should be there,"_ he stated, regretfully looking at the image on the screen.

"_Agent Hanna has got the situation under control."_ The look he gave to Hunter had sent better men (and women) running for cover. His eyes, bluer than ever in the lighting of the screen, were full of conflicting emotions. He trusted Sam to do the job but still wanted to be there to back him up in case anything went wrong as it often tended to go.

Nell wondered if anybody else picked up on his little mood changes or was she the only one, now that Sam was not there, this in tune with his feelings. Not only that, her mood seemed to be shifting up and down according to his emotions at the time. This was not good. This little _thing_ of hers she recently developed for Agent Callen (God, now she was starting to sound like Deeks and Kensi) was getting a mind of its own. That would not do at all.

While deep in thought she failed to notice that Callen and Kensi had left the ops until Hunter addressed he directly as she was leaving, "Nell, please file those DTS reports. We're way behind."

Nell gritted her teeth wanting nothing more than to literately bit her head off. She stomped out of ops to the railing and looked over at the bullpen where Callen and Kensi, recently joined by Deeks and Sam, were lounging at their desks since the case wasn't about to pick up for a few hours. Her eyes zeroed in on Callen who was taking some kind of food from the paper bag, feet on the table, seemingly without a care in the world.

Narrowing her eyes at his carefree attitude (when she herself had forgotten to eat _again_) she power walked down the stairs, directly towards Callen, who was the only one that had not taken notice of her rapid approach as he was way too focused on taking a first, undoubtedly delicious, bite out of a huge chocolaty muffin. Sensing danger, Sam tried to subtly signal his partner to warn him but it was already too late.

"Special Agent Callen," she addressed him formally, plucking a muffin out of his hands just as he was about to take another bite. Snickers could be heard among the agents as their team leader was left stunned, his mouth hanging open. "Where is my DTS report?"

His eyes widened innocently but she was _not_ in the mood to be charmed.

"I have tried asking nicely. I have tried asking _not_ nicely. I have tried begging. I have tried reasoning with you. I have tried making you feel sorry for me. Nothing seems to stick with you. The only thing left for me to do is to offer sexual favours in exchange for DTS report. Is that what you're aiming for _Agent Callen_?"

He stuttered, actually _stuttered_ trying to come up with an answer. No other woman in the world could make him react like this. She leaned slightly over him and put one hand on her hip, the other still holding the muffin with a gaping hole on the one side.

"While that might be the usual practice in other work places, I find it highly unprofessional not to mention illegal. Wouldn't you agree, Agent Callen?" The wide eyed agent only blinked at her.

Looking down at the still slightly warm, delicious smelling, dark chocolate muffin her empty stomach rumbled for attention.

"I will be keeping that"–she raised the muffin slightly–"as you will be far too busy, writing your DTS report to have time to eat. Isn't that so?" His eyes followed the chocolaty goodness as she moved her hand around and then settled on her fiery eyes once more.

"You mean you will be keeping it until I give you the report?" he asked uncertainly.

"What I mean is I will be keeping the muffin for _ever_. And you will write that report thinking that the next time you will get down to it when I tell you the first time thus not staying without your lunch."

"Nell, come on..." But Nell was already walking away, happily sinking her teeth into the treat. And what a good treat it was too. Looking at his co-workers, he noticed them fighting back smiles, having no sympathy for him and promptly glared at them.

"Real smooth, G."

"Oh, shut up," he snapped, digging out his unfinished DTS report. It only served to make them outright laugh at his misfortune.


	4. Uncharted waters

Some quotes are from episode 3x03. Uh, the story seems to have sailed of the course in uncharted waters without much input from the author who desperately wonders where her perfectly planned story went...

**Uncharted waters **

Nell knew she should at that precise moment be at least content if not happy. That final DTS report had at last found its way to her desk (without further offers of sexual favours), the quarterly training reviews were done, her stomach was satisfied, her need for caffeine sated but not to the point of making her sick and the op they were monitoring was going according to the plan, with Sam disabling the bomb detonators and Callen, Kensi and Deeks clearing the street.

However, Nell didn't remember the last time she felt this anxious watching the op on the big screen. She didn't know what made her this nervous; the lack of Hetty's usually calming presence, partners swap, the involvement of explosives or the combination of everything. Or maybe simply the strange undefined _bad_ feeling she had had since the last briefing.

The first indication of everything _not_ going according to the plan came soon. It was not the first time she saw a man shot in front of her eyes but you never really get used to that and she still flinched every time. But she had, in her time at the NCIS, learned not to feel guilty every time she was eternally grateful it was not one of their agents down.

Her unease growing, she continued watching the action on the screen as the agents broke into the club but other than bullets flying left, right and centre, it was hard to discern what was really happening what with camera on Sam moving in rapid jerks.

The moment Eric uttered a panicked, _"Uh-oh, so-someone is using their cell phone,"_ Nell stopped breathing. Hating the fact she could be of no use in this situation she could only wait. The phone rang like a harbinger of doom in the quiet club.

"_Callen, get the hell out of there. Now!" _As if they needed to be told by Hunter. And a moment later they were left with a screenfull of white noise in a deathly quiet room.

"_Callen, status." _The seconds following seemed to drag on for days as they were waiting for a reply. Swallowing hard Hunter repeated the demand for a second time. The respond was almost immediate.

"_We're all good."_

Only then, hearing his voice, Nell remembered to breath.

"_Never a dull moment."_ She smiled at Hunter, too relived to hold a grudge.

Not letting the feelings of relief overwhelm her, she threw herself at work, the way she had learned in her early beginnings at NCIS, works best when she wants to ease down from adrenaline high, instead of crashing.

When they (he) came back to OSP she was waiting at the third step from the top, anxiously looking at the bottom floor, like some desperate housewife standing on the porch in her apron, gazing at the sunset and waiting for her husband to come back home to her from a long day of working on fields, riding a magnificent black horse.

Ooookay, she had no idea where that comparison had come from. She needed to stop giving herself those strange ideas. And cancel cable.

At least she had an excuse of finding something pertaining to the case if somebody dared to question her eagerness.

"_Callen?"_ she called after him, noticing him marching through the office, _"I found her. Ashley Thomas."_

He sprinted up the stairs, taking two at the time, until he was forced to stop abruptly as Nell was still standing in the same position. Even two stairs above him she was only marginally taller than him. He raised an eyebrow at her as she was staring at him seriously.

"You okay?" she asked after the silence threatened to become uncomfortable. His customary smirk softened into a sincere lopsided smile.

"I'm okay, Nell. We're all okay," he reassured her.

"You sure? You're not just saying that to maintain a reputation of _big, brave, alpha male, macho man _and avoid going for a check-up to the hospital, are you?" She was suspicious and she knew Hetty always paid special attention to making sure Callen was not injured as he tended to hide if something was wrong in favour of continuing to work. Besides, it was highly unusual to be this close to a blast like this one and have no consequences at all. As if reading her mind he relented a notch.

"My ears are still ringing a bit and will for some time but other than that... As for my reputation," he smirked again, winking teasingly, "it has never been in any danger."

Was he actually flirting with her? Special Agent G Callen? Naaah, he was just being nice and trying to ease her worries.

"So sure of ourselves, are we Agent Callen?" She had recently developed an affinity for his formal title and enjoyed using it way too much.

"Well, you were the one offering me sexual favours, _Miss Jones_," he mocked, leaning close to her, "a payment, on which I intent to collect."

Oh, _now_ he was definitely flirting with her.

Thinking he got her, he smiled smugly but if he expected her to back down, he was sadly mistaken. Nell Jones has a quick mind and a sharp wit.

"Now, now, that sounds awfully like a potential work place sexual harassment situation, coming out of your mouth. Might have to revisit one of those educational seminars." He grimaced remembering the _really_ bad visualisations they were obliged to watch every few years. "Now, come on. We have work to do." As she skipped away happily he realized she had once again one-upped him. He really was off his game these days. Not that he minded exactly when it came to her.

The conversation quickly turned to work, no trace of playfulness left as he followed her to ops. Discovering a face of Agent Lauren Hunter residing under a name of Ashley Thomas, he tore out of ops in search of the said agent.

Cursing her unrelenting curiosity that often brought her nothing but trouble, Nell waited a bit before stepping out of ops towards the railing where she had, as proven by previous experience, a pretty good view into Hetty's office, where she, to her surprise, found the woman herself sitting down behind her desk with a tray of tea in her hands. As if she had never left.

Beyond anxious to hear what she was saying to Callen who was standing on the other side of her desk, looking down at her, Nell walked along the length of the balcony but stopped as soon as she caught sight of his face. Not needing to hear the words she knew what they were talking about. She was never told the story of Callen's history as a whole but she was an intelligence analyst, her job required her to make sense out of pieces of information. And she was the best in her field. She had a pretty good idea of what was being said.

A cold fist gripped her fast beating heart at the involuntary smile appearing on his face only to be chased away by incredible hurt and betrayal. His usually stoic face was screaming of injustice. He was showing a remarkable amount of control when she was certain he wanted to kick and scream and beat on something or someone.

It was irrefutably confirmed what he had suspected all along. All this time Hetty _knew_, she knew where he came from and who his family was. She knew and intentionally didn't tell him what he searched for all his life.

Unconsciously rubbing a hand over her chest as if she could physically soothe her aching heart she couldn't tear her eyes away from the duo. Hetty was suffering too, it was undeniable. And despite their recent falling-out Nell felt sorry for her. But she also thought she deserved it a little. She betrayed him as surely as if she herself put five bullets into his body.

Not being able to stand any more of this, she walked away slowly as if in slight trance thus not hearing Hetty's parting words to Callen.

"You asked me before why now. Why I'm willing to tell you now. I wasn't completely honest with you.

"Oh, what I told you is the truth. You are safe from the Comescu's now. Safer at least. And I can't live with those secrets anymore. But... It was Miss Jones. _She_ came through for you, defying me in every possible way. _She_ ripped me a new one, so to say. You should thank her."

In unison they turned their heads towards ops but she was already out of their sight.

Hiding in the incinerator room for the remainder of the day, aggressively chucking files into the machine, lost in her thoughts, seemed like a good plan at the time. That was, until little ninja that sometimes went by the name Hetty Lange, suddenly appeared in front of her, without Nell having any idea when or how she got there that quietly, nearly giving her a heart attack.

The women stood there, staring at one another for awhile, neither saying anything. It was the first time they saw each other since the day before when Nell visited Hetty at home.

"You think he will ever forgive me?" the older of the two asked without any preamble.

"Yes." Nell wondered if Hetty told him everything or just bits and pieces she deemed appropriate. She just hoped she didn't leave out anything important because next time he might not be so forgiving. "This time."

Seeming to understand her perfectly, she simply nodded at the young woman and left her alone with her thoughts.

Conflicted between checking up on Callen and leaving him to process his thoughts in peace, she stared after Hetty long after she closed the door after herself. Despite deciding she could be of no comfort to him, not then and not about this, she almost timidly ventured out of her hiding place. In the bullpen Hetty was being warmly welcomed back by agents, technical support and even Monty. But as expected, no sight of Callen.

Instinctively knowing where to find him she passed the celebration and proceeded walking towards the gym where he was predictably beating the living crap out of a punching bag. Not wanting to disturb him but also not wanting to leave just yet, she stood immovably by the entrance, leaning on the wall, her eyes fixed on the rippling muscles beneath his sweat drenched T-shirt.

She punished herself watching as he continued pounding on the bag, gritting his teeth in anger. She felt she shouldn't watch him like this, he would undoubtedly think this an invasion of privacy but she couldn't tear herself away. She has seen him show more emotions in the last two days than in the last year she worked with him. In a strange way it fascinated her to see him this human.

Finally stopping, he was loudly gasping for air as he leaned on the punching bag, hugging it to himself like it was his lifeline. Closing her eyes at the sight in front of her for fear of bursting into uncontrollable sobs, she missed the moment he noticed her presence.

"Nell." His whisper echoed loudly through otherwise empty gym. Wide-eyed and caught off guard she tried to think of a plausible explanation for her presence but her tongue was tied as he purposefully walked over to where she was standing.

"I'm sorry, I-" Her explanation was cut off by his lips on hers. His mouth was hard and hot on hers, the kiss aggressive and demanding. He braced his hands on the wall behind her, boxing her in and pushing her even further into the wall with his full weight. It was impossible not to respond, impossible not to enjoy it even as she realised the kiss was not about her. She just happened to stand in the vicinity.

Nell lifted her palm to his cheek, rubbing her thumb over his stubble and his mouth softened against hers noticeably. She could swear she heard a dry broken sob fight its way from his throat before he pushed it down, breaking the kiss. Both were panting for air as he put his forehead, still sweaty from the workout, on hers, while she continued to caress his face.

"Oh, Callen." Her sigh was sad, recognizing his pain and absolving him of any guilt he might feel over the kiss later on, all at once.

"Thank you," he whispered, lightly kissing her forehead and backing away as she stared after him, rooted to the spot, her fingers lightly touching her lips.

What was he thanking her for? She had no idea but she might do him more favours in the future if that was the thank-you she received.

For a moment, she allowed herself to think she wasn't just conveniently placed.


End file.
